


The Power of a Story

by medusine



Series: Playing with Fire [2]
Category: Black Sails, The Odyssey - Homer
Genre: Dirty storytelling, Dobbs is gross and I am sorry, Drunkenness, F/M, Fic within a Fic, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusine/pseuds/medusine
Summary: The Walrus crew are telling each other dirty stories, and Silver is intrigued when Flint decides to tell a story of his own.





	The Power of a Story

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a [prompt](http://ellelan.tumblr.com/post/168539690522/the-crew-manages-to-get-flint-a-bit-too-drunk-and) on [ellelan's](http://ellelan.tumblr.com) tumblr. The best place for plotbunnies!
> 
> Set in S1. This follows on from [To Get Rid of Temptation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12845889), but also works as a standalone.

It was the first time Silver had seen Flint drink so much. They'd expected their prize to be full of cocoa – which it was – but had also taken barrel upon barrel of rum that day. Somehow, Gates had managed to coax their irascible captain to let the men enjoy a barrel of it on the deck, to boost morale, no doubt. And, to Silver's surprise, Flint had actually deigned to stride up amongst the crew and had started drinking with them, sat on a stool beside his quartermaster.

Silver stood in the shadows, wondering if Flint was in a good mood because he'd got thoroughly laid the day before. Silver certainly was. He could still feel Flint inside of him every time he moved, and found he didn't mind the discomfort at all. Christ, that had been an exhilarating experience.

Dobbs was telling some awful story about a girl he'd once fucked, complete with crude gestures, to the crew's raucous laughter. Silver saw Flint wrinkle his nose, lip curling with disdain, and drink deeper.

“And so, right, I turned her round, and – I swear I'm not making it up, right – I stuck it straight up her arse all at once.”

There were guffaws and jeers and a few cries of “buggerer!” from the assembled crew.

“She was screeching, she was. Never had such a good cock up there, she said. And her tits were bouncing while I fucked her, like this.” Dobbs mimed the movement of the girl's breasts with his hands. Flint rolled his eyes.

“Captain ain't convinced by your story, mate,” Muldoon pointed out with a teasing smirk.

“Ain't he?” Dobbs turned to Flint, stumbling drunkenly, puffing his chest out. “You callin' me a liar, captain?”

“Just feeling sorry for the poor girl you misused, Mr Dobbs,” Flint said. A chorus of mocking laughter erupted from the crew.

“Say what?” Dobbs turned an ugly shade of puce. “What would _you_ know about fucking girls, you're never even at the whorehouse!”

The crew collectively winced. Silver shifted backwards instinctively, waiting for the explosion of rage that would surely follow such a plain provocation. Flint stared at Dobbs coldly for a while, long enough for him to grow uneasy as he realised what he'd just said to his very dangerous captain.

“Sit down, Mr Dobbs,” Flint told him with quiet authority. Dobbs instantly did as he was told. The crew muttered around him, but then Flint started to speak again, his voice louder and clearer than before.

“As Odysseus attempted to sail home, he happened upon an island in the depths of which resided the sorceress Circe. She was a goddess, you know? Slender and delicate, dark hair falling all the way down her back in waves, big eyes that could look into your very soul, and a smile that would captivate the most seasoned and cynical of sailors.”

The crew exchanged confused glances, but a hush had fallen over them. Gates and Billy looked at each other with small scowls, clearly dubious about whatever Flint was doing. Silver, on the other hand, moved closer.

“Now Circe didn't like men. She used her magic to turn them to beasts. But Odysseus was lucky to have an ally in Hermes, who gave him a herb which would protect him from her magic. And so Odysseus barged in on Circe, sword at the ready, demanding that she free his crew. But all she did in response to his threats was smile. She wasn't afraid of him, or of his sword. In fact, she rather liked what she saw before her.”

The crew was entranced, Silver realised. _He_ was entranced. Billy's eyes were wide and his mouth had fallen open. Even Gates seemed somewhat impressed. Something about Flint's voice when he lowered it, its soft rasp over his clear cut words, was magic unto itself.

“Circe promised to free Odysseus' men, but before that she wanted to get better acquainted with him. What she meant by this, of course, was that she wanted to fuck him bloody senseless.”

Flint took a swig from his cup as the crew gasped and hooted at his sudden change of register. Silver saw the satisfied smirk on Flint's lips, and licked his own, vividly remembering their burn on his mouth.

“Odysseus made her swear by all the gods that she wouldn't harm him. She swore, and led him to her bedroom. Slowly, painfully slowly, she removed his clothes. Her soft hands wandered over him. She was wearing layers of sheer veils, and they brushed against him as she moved. He could see the mounds of her breasts and the curve of her arse through the fabric, but she didn't let him touch her. Not yet.”

The crew barely dared to breathe now. Several men had shifted towards Flint, tightening the circle of bodies around their captain, who sat with his thighs spread, relaxed as though he wasn't telling his men a positively filthy story. How drunk was he? And _how_ , exactly, was he so good at making this stuff up? Silver only knew bits of the _Odyssey_ , but he didn't remember this part to be filled with smut.

“She lay him on her bed and slowly removed her own clothes, veil after veil. He looked upon her silky skin as she revealed herself to him, admired her soft breasts that would fit perfectly in his palms, nipples hard and bright pink, and he gazed at the dark hair between her thighs. It pointed to the place he most wanted to go.”

Silver heard soft gasps and groans from the crew. More than one sailor shifted where he sat, discreetly – or not so discreetly – moving the evidence of his arousal in his breeches to make it less visible or perhaps, for the bolder ones, easier to tug on through a pocket. Silver's cock felt heavy between his thighs as it slowly filled, pulsing to the sound of Flint's voice.

“But she didn't let him go there, least not with the part of him that was hard and straining for it. No, she straddled his chest and offered him her cunt, warm and wet, for him to taste. I'm sure you know how she tasted? What she smelled like?”

There were grunts of appreciation from the crew. Billy had developed a blush. Gates rolled his eyes and muttered something like “Jesus Christ” under his breath. But Silver's eyes were drawn back to Flint's mouth, to his self-satisfied smirk. Flint's eyes flicked to him ever so briefly, and the smirk became devilish. Silver's breath caught in his throat, his cock twitching in his trousers.

“She rode his face, smothering him in her cunt, until he could barely breathe. But he didn't want to breathe, because he relished all the pretty sounds she made while he licked and sucked at her, and slid fingers into her. And at last she came, oh yes, she came with great shudders.”

Silver was about sure that he'd heard someone whimper, and he couldn't be certain that it wasn't him. Christ, the sight of Flint sitting there, legs spread, half-drunk and shamelessly lost in his storytelling… Silver barely knew what to do with himself. All he could think of was how much he'd love to kneel between those thighs and take the captain's beautiful cock into his mouth.

  
“You'd think she'd let him fuck her then, wouldn't you?” Flint asked with great glee, obviously enjoying the glazed-over eyes and slack jaws of his mesmerised crew. “Instead, she teased. She crawled down along him, rubbing her wet cunt, then her hard nipples, down along his chest and belly. She slithered all the way down, until he felt her hot breath on his–”

Gates cleared his throat loudly several times, the sound harsh and piercing. “All right, we've heard enough!” The spell was broken. Grumbles and disappointed moans came up from the rapt crew but Gates ignored them, glaring at Flint. “You've made your point, Captain. Whatever it was supposed to be.”

Flint's grin was savage in its victory. He stared at Dobbs. “My point was that you don't need to fuck whores in a brothel to know a thing or two about satisfying a woman. Or telling a dirty story.”

Dobbs muttered an abashed “fair enough”, while the others sniggered at him.

“Now clear off, the lot of you,” Flint said, his voice turning stern and cutting once more. “We've all had enough rum for tonight.”

The crew left faster than ever, in a hurry to be in their hammocks, no doubt. They left mugs strewn at random in their wake. Silver took this as his cue to start picking up after them, though it wasn't exactly easy for him to walk after Flint's story.

“Have I ever told you're a nutter, Captain?” Gates asked Flint, shaking his head and heaving a great sigh. Silver noticed the amused twinkle in his eye, though. “Never in a million years did I think you'd pull something like that.”

Flint gave a shrug and finished his cup. “Worked though, didn't it?” He got to his feet, and stumbled under the ship's motion.

“For fuck's sake,” Gates growled.

“I'm fine,” Flint snapped back.

“I can help him,” Silver said quickly, dropping the cups he'd been gathering and hurrying to Flint's side. He offered Flint his arm to lean on. Flint stared at it blankly for a moment, then gave a dismissive snort and started walking to his cabin, swaggering despite his unsteady step.

“I'll just… make sure he gets there safely,” Silver told Gates with a bright grin.

Gates looked between Flint and Silver, scowling, and shook his head. “Just keep the bloody noise down this time, will you?”

Silver raced after Flint, barely abashed by the fact that Gates knew they'd fucked. He hadn't exactly been quiet, after all. It was hard to be quiet with Flint's cock inside you.

Flint was nearly at his cabin by the time Silver caught up with him. He frowned a little when Silver turned up at his elbow, but opened the door for him and drew him inside.

Once he stepped into the cabin, Silver was swallowed up in the whirlwind of Flint's lips. He tasted of rum, his mouth hot and wet and a little sloppy. Silver kissed him back eagerly, wrapping his arms around Flint's waist, pressing his reawakened erection into Flint's thigh.

“Liked the story, then, did you?” Flint asked against Silver's mouth, arrogant and knowing.

“Wasn't bad.” Silver just about managed to say it in a level voice.

Flint chuckled, then lurched under the roll of a wave and let out a grumbled oath.

“Come,” Silver said, taking Flint's hand. His heart galloped at the huge risk he'd just taken, and he barely dared to look at Flint's face, terrified to find fury there. But Flint didn't remove his hand, so Silver led him towards the hanging cot. Flint sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at Silver, eyes dark and wild. Silver wasn't sure whether Flint wanted to fuck him or to devour him alive.

But then he remembered the story. The lethal warrior and the unafraid sorceress. Stories were never just stories, especially not when they came so freely from a man's fantasy, only thinly veiled in the shroud of fiction. They were either memories or wishes. And so, Silver bent to kiss Flint's lips again, all the while running his fingers along the front of his shirt.

When they'd fucked before, Silver had lain bare beneath Flint, who'd kept all his clothes on, even his heavy black coat, clad in an impenetrable armour that declared how superior he was, how in control of the situation. But now Flint made no protest when Silver pushed the coat from his shoulders, and even shifted so that Silver could remove it and place it at the end of the cot.

When Silver removed Flint's shirt, the dim candlelight revealed whorls upon whorls of freckles on his skin. They spiralled around his shoulders, covered his arms, peppered down his chest. Emboldened by Flint's cooperation so far, Silver pressed kisses along Flint's throat and down his chest, eager to discover the feel and taste of him.

Silver's mouth closed over a nipple as he bent to unbuckle Flint's belt, and he was rewarded by a low groan and Flint arching into his mouth. Flint's fingers tangled in Silver's hair, but he didn't grab or direct his head. Instead, Flint let Silver tease and suck as he saw fit, chest heaving with shuddering gasps.

Silver felt dizzy with arousal, barely able to comprehend why Flint had such a pull on him, why he was willing to take such risks just to be allowed in the captain's bed. He decided not to examine it too closely, but reminded himself that pleasing Flint was the end-game, here. Survival, not his own pleasure. With that in mind, he rid Flint of his belt, then knelt to remove his shoes and gaiters too.

Flint peered down at him, lips parted and wet, quivering with anticipation; Silver grinned at him and reached up to unbutton his breeches. He did his best to ignore Flint's cock, which lay half-hard – likely made sluggish by the rum – in a nest of fire-coloured curls. Instead he drew off the tight breeches, smoothing his hands over the tops of Flint's strong thighs.

For a brief moment, Silver admired Flint as he sat naked on the edge of his cot, nostrils flaring, copper hair falling loose around his face, and each fist gripping the wood at the edge of the bed, as though he might topple if he didn't hold on tight.

“I think this is where your story broke off,” Silver murmured, shifting forward to breathe on Flint's cock. It twitched.

“Sounds about right.” Flint's voice was barely a murmur, tight and rough with anticipation.

Silver smirked at him and took to exploring him with mouth, drawing a shiver from Flint when he teased his foreskin with tip of his tongue. Then he wrapped a hand around him and watched as Flint grew in his fist, thickening, flushing. He could feel Flint's eyes on him, hear his sharp breath, but Silver only had eyes for his cock.

“Would she have done this, do you think?” Silver asked as he dragged his tongue all up the underside of Flint's cock, savouring the taste of him. Flint grunted and squirmed in his seat.

“I think she would have,” Silver continued, licking him again, “and this, too.” He wrapped his tongue around the head of Flint's cock, taking him into his mouth. The sounds Flint made as Silver teased and sucked and licked were delightful. Oh, Flint tried to keep quiet, of course, but Silver picked up on every muffled moan, every swallowed-back whine, and every hiss and gasp that escaped Flint's control. As Silver teased him with his tongue, Flint's eyes fell closed, the hardness of his features momentarily dissolving.

Silver shifted closer, pulling more of Flint into his mouth, resting both hands on Flint's thighs. God, they were good thighs, thick and powerful. Silver felt both awed and safe, nestled between them, mouth wrapped around Flint's cock. How strange to feel safe sucking off someone who had the power of life and death over you, who was known to be ruthless and violent. And yet… yet Flint didn't thrust or push. He sat there, panting, his head thrown back, his body quivering. The disarmed Odysseus of Flint's tale. Silver felt himself grow harder, straining against his trousers.

He sucked Flint deeper into his mouth, as deep as he could take him without choking, pressing him to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Long sighs, nearly moans, escaped Flint's throat, and Silver had to resist the urge to touch himself just yet. Instead he sucked harder, moaning as he did so, knowing what that would feel like to Flint. He was rewarded by Flint sliding a hand into his hair, its grip tighter than it had been before.

Before long he felt Flint's thighs trembling under his fingers and heard the desperate rasp of Flint's breath as he neared climax. Silver wrapped a hand around the base of Flint's cock, moving it to the rhythm of his mouth, shifting desperately to get a little friction on his own cock. Flint's fingers dug into his scalp, his hips twitching, as though he were fighting hard to stop himself from moving.

“I'm going to…”

Silver smiled, barely believing that Flint would actually _warn_ him, as though it hadn't been self-evident. He hummed in response, sucking enthusiastically, and Flint let out a harsh gasp, his seed flooding Silver's tongue. Silver swallowed, strangely enjoying the flavour of it. Then he drew off, squeezing the last of Flint's seed out of him, licking it off the head of his cock. Christ but Flint was beautiful, flushed all the way down his chest and trembling under the force of his orgasm.

“Get up,” Flint told him. That stung a little, to be dismissed so callously, but Silver obeyed. Survival, he reminded himself.

Silver didn't expect Flint to reach out and pull him into his lap, making Silver straddle his thighs. He certainly didn't expect to be kissed, hot and breathless and hungry. Nor did he expect Flint's hands to be at his trousers so fast, unbuttoning him and drawing his cock out.

Silver could barely make out what was happening before he was thrusting up into Flint's fist, hard and slick with anticipation. Flint's mouth on his swallowed the moans that rushed out of his throat, his hand working him hard and fast. Dizzied by the sudden onslaught of sensations after being aroused for so long, Silver came with a sharp cry, spilling himself all up Flint's stomach and chest.

Only then did Flint break their kiss. Panting, Silver pressed his forehead to Flint's shoulder until his breathing slowed and the world stopped spinning. One of Flint's hands cradled the back of his neck, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on his skin.

Although he was finally sated, a myriad thoughts flew around Silver's head in the haze of his euphoria. The strange gentleness of it all, despite Flint's usual harshness. Flint's desire for control, and his need to relinquish control. Bits of clues, things that might help him understand the captain, started assembling into questions. There were always questions, when it came to Flint.

“Who is she?” Silver asked against Flint's skin, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.

“Who?”

“The woman from your story.” He looked up at Flint. “Your Circe?”

“What's it to you?” Flint asked, glaring down at him.

“It's Mrs Barlow, isn't it?”

Flint stared at Silver, appearing to be thinking deeply about his answer although it was quite a straightforward question. Then he rolled his eyes and scoffed, nudging Silver off his lap.

“I hear the deck needs cleaning.”

“Nice of you to remember, Captain,” Silver said as he tucked himself back into his trousers.

When he found Flint watching him, head tilted up a little, Silver couldn't help pressing a cheeky kiss to his lips. Flint moved back with an angry snort and glared at him as he left the cabin.

Silver closed the door behind him, yet more questions pressing on his mind. Someday, he'd find out this unfathomable man's story, he promised himself.


End file.
